Glimpses
by Sapphire Snowflake
Summary: If eyes are windows to the soul, why can't she see his? Sequel to Vignettes.


AN: This is a work of fiction. I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, and this was written as a way to relieve stress. Lol. I definitely didn't make money from writing this one.

Sequel to Vignettes. You need to read that one first before this.

**Summary: If eyes are windows to the soul, why can't she see his?**

**Glimpses**

**By Sapphire Snowflake**

She is in the library, writing up her 6-foot long essay for potions, when Victor Krum approached her. The Triwizard champion from Durmstrang gives her an awkward smile, hands her a single red rose, and then asks her to the Yule Ball. She can feel her cheeks heat up slightly, surprised yet pleased at the invitation. She did not expect anyone to notice her and has always considered herself a wallflower.

_Except for him_, she secretly thinks as she tucks strands of hair behind her left ear and sneaks a peak at the boy tables away from her and Victor. She sees him watching her from the corner of her eyes, his eyebrow raised as if questioning the scene before him.

As she lies on her bed that night, she wonders what Draco Malfoy was thinking when she accepted the flower from Victor.

o0o

She twirls in front of the mirror in her dorm room, a wide smile adorning her face. She has always prioritized studying over making herself look pretty but tonight is an exception. She's never felt prettier in her life.

She wonders if Ron will notice. If he will regret not asking her for the ball. She could feel her heart thumping loudly inside her chest.

She could see eyes landing on her far longer than they normally would as she walked down the stairs. It's as if it's the first time they've seen her, this bookish girl blossoming into a flower. _It's a weird feeling_, she concludes.

Ronald Weasley – to her disappointment – scowls at her the entire night. For the life of her she cannot understand why he's so upset when she should be the one who should be mad at always being his last resort. She would've felt angrier and more morose if not for a pair of grey eyes that keep on following her every step.

She cannot help but wonder why.

o0o

_His eyes are everywhere._ She can feel her nape growing warm at the thought. She has noticed his stares a few months ago and she still cannot get used to it. If only she can do legilimency, maybe she'll get a glimpse as to what he wants from her, and why he keeps on looking for her amongst the crowd. Despite this, she is somewhat surprised that she actually does not mind it that much. Instead, she's playing this game of sneaking glances as long as she can without getting caught.

The matter at hand however is more important than this unspoken game they are playing. His eyes are everywhere, and this somewhat scares her as she, Ron and Harry sneak into Hog's Head Inn for the meeting. With bated breath, she waits for the other students to come and silently wishes that _he _won't be joining them.

Oh who is she lying to? She secretly hopes for him to come; however, she knows this is a fool's wish as they are from opposite sides of world.

o0o

At fifteen, she finds a reason to stare back at the eyes that continues to haunt her, as she stands inside Dolores Umbridge's office after being reported by none other than Draco Malfoy.

Her eyes narrow in resentment and shame. Shame because she really thought he fancies her. Who keeps on staring at a single person for no reason?

But of course, a _spy _would.

Her cheeks heat up at the realization. _Oh Hermione, you are so naïve._ This thought filled her mind along with plans on how to overthrow Umbridge.

And possibly break Draco Malfoy's nose again.

As the hinges of the door to Umbridge's office close, she gives one last glimpse at Draco and gets thoroughly confused as she sees guilt in his face instead of triumph.

o0o

She's long stopped the game she was playing.

He has not.

She can still feel his gaze as she steps forward the bubbling cauldron and spouts all the information she knows about Amortentia. She's long stopped the game she was playing. She wonders why he has not. Why it is not Harry he is on the lookout. In fact she's trying to muster enough anger at Ron's lack of attention to her to ignore the questions bubbling inside her head about Draco. To ignore the emotions that are starting to flourish inside her like weeds in a flower garden. She tries to think of Ron's face, Ron's hobbies, Ron's voice as she describes what the Amortentia smells for her.

"… _freshly mown grass and… and new parchment –" _Her face warms up as the scent of sandalwood cologne wafts through her nostrils. Her head whips to Ron as her heart thumps so loud she's afraid everyone will hear. She's afraid that along the beat of her heart, her deep-seated secret will come out in the open too.

_Ron does not wear cologne._

o0o

Gryffindor won the Quidditch match again.

She starts gathering her book and shawl when she hears the ghastly sounds of two people snogging. She sees Ron and Lavender a few benches below her, wrestling their mouths and tongues like there's no tomorrow. She stares a bit more at the couple and frowns when she does not feel anything towards them besides slight disgust at the very public display of affection. Disappointment feels her at the realization that no, she truly does not like Ron in any romantic way. And that the Amortentia did not lie.

Hurt follows her disappointment at the realization that her feelings will never be returned by _him_. Humiliation mixes in with the two as she mulls over why she even developed any sort of feelings for the boy aside from irritation and anger. _Why will he even fancy a mudblood, s_he bitterly remembers her delusions from long ago.

_Good for them. They can have what they wanted._ She blinks back the tears threatening to spill down her face. Heaving a deep sigh, she leaves the Quidditch pitch.

She doesn't really understand what love is. Never really bothered to learn anything about it before because love can be a distraction from her studies and her ambitions. She wishes that whatever emotion she's bottling up inside her isn't love. Because this love can get her, and her loved ones killed.

o0o

She is lying on the floor in his family's manor, screaming as Bellatrix carves something in her arm. She can feel her blood dripping down her arm as quickly as her tears. The pain only grows stronger but she can't give in to her demands. Harry is their last hope to win the war, to stop the evil that is threatening the safety of the world she came to love. As she screams and flails on the ground in pain, she keeps catching glimpses of his crying face, his eyes that after all this years cannot stop from following her. She feels delirious as she continues to shed blood. The lack of oxygen from screaming makes her senses disorganized that she misses the shouts of spells suddenly feeling the room, fails to notice that she's now alone on the ground as Bellatrix gets thrown a few feet away from her. She almost doesn't notice when a warm hand grasps her arm, pulls her up and carries her in his arms. She looks up only to see the same grey eyes plaguing her dreams. Despite the haziness of her thoughts, she remembers a single question she keeps on asking herself years ago: _If eyes are windows to the soul, why can't I see yours?_ Her hand reaches up to touch his cheek as she gets a glimpse of it.

"You are in love with me too."


End file.
